


bob dylan does not slap

by JamieB93



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Harley is a little music snob, M/M, Peter Parker Has Anxiety, Peter Parker has ADHD, Peter just goes with the flow, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Harley Keener, SO MUCH FLUFF, precious harley keener
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-07-31 00:47:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20106400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieB93/pseuds/JamieB93
Summary: boyfriends peter parker and harley keener have a lot in common.their taste in music is not one of those things.harley thought himself refined. dignified. classic rock. music of the 60s. music needed a message, a meaning, a purpose.peter just liked whatever crap he heard on the radio. music was for fun. to lighten the mood.neither is right, neither is wrong. but yes, they are going to fight about it.





	1. bob dylan does not slap

**Author's Note:**

> Started a little side Harley/Peter story that came to me this morning. Can't promise consistent updates as I'm very Show Me What I'm Looking For focused at the moment (my main fic if you don't know, feel free to check it out) but enjoy! This story is completely SEPARATE from that one as well, not the same universe at all. 
> 
> Note: The opinions stated on any songs/artists/genres in this story are merely the opinions of the fictional characters of Peter and Harley. I am in no way hating or coming for anyone's faves if the characters in this story profess to not like something.
> 
> That said, naturally, my own biases are going to show at some point. Particularly if they concern Harry Styles, Taylor Swift or Fleetwood Mac.

**1.**

bob dylan does not slap.

“Bob Dylan does not slap” Peter huffed like the temperamental child he could be sometimes, pulling his pouty face and looking grumpy, “Where’s the rhythm? Where’s the beat? Why does he sound like a cat getting strangled?”

Harley groaned.

“Peter, I love you but _fuck _you’re such an uncultured swine” Harley said with a laugh, “This is Bob Dylan, Peter. It’s not about the music, it’s about the message.”

“I get the message, I’m not dumb” Peter replied, rolling his eyes, “Cannonballs haven’t been used in warfare since like the 1800s anyway, or maybe I don’t know exactly when but I’m sure as shit they weren’t being used in 1962, so his references aren’t even on point.”

Harley laughed and snuggled into his boyfriends’ side. Peter was so adorable when he got confused and mad over things.

They had a lot in common. So much in common.

Their taste in music was not one of those things.

And, by that, Harley meant that he had a refined, eclectic music taste spanning many genres and decades whilst Peter was tasteless and stuck on whatever current Top 40 nonsense was being overplayed on the local stations. His current favorite song was some hideously overproduced re-mix of Whitney Houston covering _Higher Love_ by Steve Winwood, which Harley had taken an immediate loathing too.

Fine. Maybe there was a teeny, tiny, miniscule chance that Harley could possibly be in the running to be defined as a potential music snob, but Peter needed some damn educating when it came to music. He thought _Back In Black_ was by Led Zeppelin. He claimed his favorite Beatles song was “_the one that goes like sugar doo doo doo ah honey honey_” (Harley had almost ended things on the spot with him right there and then) and now he was disrespecting the man himself, Bob Dylan.

“Do we need to listen to _Like a Rolling Stone _again there, Pete?” Harley asked.

Peter shot up.

“No! That one’s worse, if anything” he exclaimed, before sighing, “I’m sorry. I feel bad. I shouldn’t be hating on things you like, even if you hate on everything I like”

“I don’t hate on everything you like” Harley argued, “I admitted I quite enjoyed that Shawn Mendes song you had me listen too, even if it was a total rip-off of _Use Somebody _by Kings of Leon…”

“See, there you go again” Peter said playfully as he eased himself back to laying down with his head tucked just beneath Harley’s neck. “I feel like you should play these songs for MJ, she’d probably like them. Thinking that I having no taste in music is like the only thing you two have in common.”

“You’re probably right” Harley said softly, kissing Peter on the forehead.

He and MJ had a lot more in common than that.

They were both gay.

They both loved a good murder story.

They both hated the current presidential administration.

But most importantly.

They both loved Peter Parker to their very bones.

(And they may have also been co-leads of the Peter Parker Protection Squad. There _may_ have been a secret group chat Peter knew nothing about. They _may_ have all met up to discuss and review the previous week every Thursday night when Peter did his longest vigil. Just maybe.)

Peter smiled and put his earphone back in, humming contentedly as _Make You Feel My Love _started playing and the two just sat in silence as they tune played.

Harley wouldn’t have been anywhere else in the world in that moment.

At least, until,

“You know, I think I actually really like this one” Peter said with a yawn, “This guy should cover more Adele songs.”

As Peter was close to falling asleep in his arms, Harley couldn’t bring himself to correct his boyfriend and so merely made a note of jotting down Peter’s latest inane musical statement and posting it on the group chat later.


	2. I Said I've Been To The Year 3000

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, Peter's on a Sugar High and learns some distressing news about his favourite band.

** 2. **

I said I’ve been to the Year 3000!

_“she said I’ve been to the year 3000, not much has changed but they live underwater” _Peter Parker was on a sugar high. All Sam Wilson’s fault, of course (who makes brownies at 10.30am?!), and Harley couldn’t help but secretly curse the man as he watched his boyfriend jump from couch to couch and back again repeatedly throughout the entire afternoon.

If enhanced senses, heightened anxiety and bouts of insomnia weren’t enough to keep Peter in a constant state of motion he also had a bad case of ADHD and got hyper very, very easily. Harley merely sighed and waited until the inevitable sugar crash.

It had to come at some point. Probably not for a while though, Peter hadn’t admitted it but Harley was sure his boyfriend had forgotten to take his medication that morning.

Peter had put on (his self-made) the Jonas Brothers’ Greatest Hits playlist of Spotify and had shuffled through a majority of their, incredibly sub-par in Harley’s opinion, discography whilst jumping up and down on any piece of furniture he happened across.

Harley merely sat on the largest sofa, laying down and trying his best to concentrate on reading _Tender Is The Night_, enthusiastically recommended to him by Peter’s Aunt May. Harley and May had bonded over their shared love of literature (and Peter, that adorable hyperactive imp) quickly.

“Dude-Harley, Harley watch me do a back flip! Watch me do a back flip!” Peter yelled from across the room, Harley sighed, having already watched Peter perform about seven backflips in the last half hour. He gave Peter an encouraging smile as his boyfriend backflipped and landed effortlessly over the coffee table and in front of Harley’s face.

“Ooh ooh this is the best bit!” Peter shouted as the bridge hit.

_“I TOOK A TRIP TO THE YEAR 3000, THIS SONG HAD GONE MULTI-PLATINIUM, EVERYBODY BOUGHT OR SEVENTH ALBUM IT HAD OUTSOLD KELLY CLARKSON-!” _Peter sang at the top of his lungs, making Harley very pleased that Pepper had taken a sleeping Morgan out for a stroll a few minutes before. Tony was in his lab a few floors below, presumably totally unaware of the fact Peter was on a major sugar high a few floors above.

It didn’t really worry Harley; from experience he knew it was better to just let Peter tire himself out and the boy was intelligent enough to know how beyond hyper he was at that moment. He flopped down and gave Harley a quick peck on the lips.

Harley couldn’t help but smile.

“What a genius song!” Peter went on, “Can you believe my man Nick Jonas wrote those lyrics when he was only fiftee-“

“Nick Jonas didn’t write this song babe” Harley said softly, “It was originally by a British band called Busted. Their version is a lot better, if you ask me.”

It was like Harley had just told Peter there was no such thing as God.

The boy looked betrayed.

Like he’d just been slapped in the face.

“WHAT?!”

“Seriously, I wouldn’t lie to you about the Jonas Brothers babe” Harley chuckled, “I know how much they mean to you. This ain’t a Jo-Bro original.”

“This is….this is, betrayal Harley. Betrayal!” Peter exclaimed. Harley grinned. “Has the American public been made aware of this?”

“Maybe you should listen to the original and compare” Harley suggested, pleased he’d somewhat accidentally stumbled on a way to get Peter to _calm down_, “With headphones on though. I have a bit of a headache.”

Peter smiled and took Harley’s iPhone from him, putting in the earbuds and searching through Spotify for the right song.

Harley’s heart melted as he watched his boyfriend listen to the music. His foot tapped along to the beat, his hands were shaking, and it was clear he was trying to off-shoot a lot of his excess energy, feeling guilty over giving Harley a headache.

Three minutes later and Peter had pretty much totally deflated, at last.

He slinked back over to where Harley was laying on the couch and flopped down onto his boyfriends’ stomach, allowing Harley to run soothing fingers through his hair.

“It was sort of better” Peter admitted.

“I’m always right about these things” Harley said with a smile.

“Not always” Peter replied with a frown before yawning, “Think I burned myself out.”

“Be honest with me” Harley said sternly, “You forgot to take your meds this morning, didn’t you?”

Peter nodded and whimpered.

“Bad patrol last night, was just super tired” he said sadly. Harley kissed the top of his head.

“I know babe, I was there for the nightmare” Harley said softly.

“I’m sorry, I’m a lot to deal with” Peter muttered in a way that made Harley’s heart ache.

“You’re not” Harley assured him, “And even if you were, it wouldn’t matter, because I love you.”

“I love you too” Peter said happily, snuggling closer into Harley, “Am I a good blanket”

“The best”

“Love you Harls” he yawned, “At least you don’t lie to me like Nick Jonas. I don’t know if I can ever forgive him.”

“I’m sure you will” Harley said, yawning himself as well. Sleepy Peter was infectious.

“At least I still have Miranda Cosgrove. She's never lied to me” Peter murmured as sleep began to claim him, “_About You Now_ is like....our song”

Faced with the choice between letting Peter fall to sleep after 66 hours of being awake or informing him another of his favourite childhood songs was a cover as well, Harley chose the former.

The bad news could wait until Peter’s next sugar high.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was this too fluffy? I worry this was too fluffy.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed!


End file.
